


Chocolate Pudding

by NewLifeCrisis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 4+1, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nausea, Pre-Relationship, Recovery, Starvation, Vomiting, almost food porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 06:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLifeCrisis/pseuds/NewLifeCrisis
Summary: Four times someone tried to get Percival to eat, and one time someone succeeded.





	Chocolate Pudding

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Шоколадный пуддинг](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14912088) by [DrinkAndBite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrinkAndBite/pseuds/DrinkAndBite), [Greenmusik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenmusik/pseuds/Greenmusik)



**Tina**

As part of the team tasked with finding the real Percival Graves, Tina had seen the terrible state he had been found in. Locked away in the cellar of an abandoned house in Queens, Graves had been left with no food for ten days following Grindelwald’s capture. Tina didn’t think she would ever forget the sight of her director, bruised and bloody on the dank floor of his prison, with his protruding ribs and his hip bones looking as though they were trying to tear free of his skin.

She waited anxiously for hours in MACUSA’s hospital wing with the rest of the rescue team for an update on their boss’s condition. The healers who had been on-site for the rescue said he had narrowly saved himself from dying of thirst by drinking the scarce drops of water from the leaky ceiling, but that he was still severely dehydrated. Tina listened with growing concern as the healer in charge of Graves’s care told them that malnutrition was their biggest concern at the moment, as he had lost over a third of his body weight during his imprisonment. She left the hospital wing late that night, wishing they had found him sooner.

Tina’s guilt kept her from visiting Graves in person, but she often pestered the healers for details on how his recovery was progressing. Even the most professional healers could not keep the concern out of their voices when it came to Director Graves. Apparently, although he was conscious and lucid, he was so weak from starvation that they were having trouble healing him. His body simply lacked the resources needed for the healing spells to work, and the replenishing potions could only do so much. However, every time they tried to feed him, he could never keep the food down long enough to digest. Tina worried that they had saved him from that cellar, only to lose him to their ineptness again. With that thought in mind, she hurried home to start cooking.

When Tina cautiously opened the door to Graves’s hospital room, she was surprised to find him awake. In fact, if not for his open eyes and the movement in his thin chest as he breathed, she would have thought him a corpse. His face had an unhealthy grayish pallor, and it seemed he had lost even more weight since his rescue.

“Goldstein,” he rasped, snapping her back to the present, “What brings you here?”

“O-Oh, yes, well, I heard you’ve been having trouble eating, sir, so I thought I might try bringing you some home-cooked food for a change,” Tina stammered by way of explanation while unwrapping the small pot of soup she had brought.

“You cooked me something?” he asked, managing to sound incredulous, despite his obvious exhaustion.

“Yes sir! It’s my mother’s recipe for chicken noodle soup. She always made it for me and Queenie when we were sick, so I thought maybe it could help you too,” Tina said, abashed at sharing a childhood anecdote with her boss.

“Tina, it’s so kind of you to try and help, but I’m just really not hungry right now,” Graves said hoarsely, his stomach churning at the memory of his recent attempts at eating.

“Sir, please, you have to try!” she pleaded, “We’re all so worried about you! I couldn’t bear to lose you after only just getting you back.”

The sight of his subordinate holding back tears over concern for his wellbeing was more than enough to convince Percival to at least try.

“Alright, Tina,” he conceded.

She immediately brightened at his agreement and carefully helped him sit up in bed. Her embarrassment at essentially spoon-feeding her boss was temporarily overridden by her concern for him. She helped him eat slowly, just a spoonful at a time, but by the fifth spoonful, his face had gone from gray to alarmingly green.

“Tina, I can’t-” he broke himself off with a gag and pressed a skeletal hand to his mouth.

Without her keen Auror reflexes, she might not have gotten the emesis basin in time for him to expel his meager meal into it. While he was getting sick, Tina quickly packed away the remaining soup and levitated it towards to door to get the smell as far from him as possible. She also poured a glass of water and helped him rinse his mouth once he was done. Graves collapsed back into a prone position and closed his eyes, struggling to calm his breathing.

Tina cast worried glances at the poor man while fiddling with the sleeves of her coat before finally murmuring, “I-I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have forced you to.”

“No, Tina, it’s not your fault. You were only trying to help, and I’m so, so grateful for all that you’ve done for me,” he assured her. She still looked ready to protest, so he beat her to it by adding, “And the soup really was delicious. I’m sure your mother would’ve been proud.”

He had hoped his tone was reassuring enough, but the way Tina laughed breathily before bursting into tears had him doubting that.

 

**Queenie**

Immediately upon Tina's return from the hospital wing that night, Queenie was struck by the intensity of her sister's concern for the director.

"Oh Teenie, he's really doing poorly, huh?" Queenie cooed and wrapped her sister up in a warm hug. "It's not your fault though, sweetie, and the healers said he'll get better, right? Just give it some time."

"But Queenie, you shoulda seen the way he looked!" Tina cried into her sister's shoulder, "I can't bear to let him waste away like that without at least trying to help."

"I know Teenie, Mr. Graves doesn't deserve to hurt more than he already has," Queenie said gently as an idea started to form in her mind, "Maybe I could try cooking up something for him? I've got this vegetable soup recipe I've just been dying to try!"

Tina looked up hopefully at her sister's words and gasped, "Oh Queenie, you'd do that for him? I know no one can resist your cooking when you put your mind to it!"

"Of course, honey!" Queenie simpered with a cheerful smile, "Mr. Graves is a good man, and I seen how much you look up to him, Teenie. Don't you worry, we'll fix him something he'll be able to eat."

Queenie made her way through the winding halls of the hospital wing with her pot of vegetable soup held carefully in her well-manicured hands. Tina was unable to come visit Mr. Graves with her this time, as she was busy at work in the wake of the Grindelwald incident. Queenie arrived at the director's room just as a healer was finishing his daily check-up.

"The superficial wounds are healing nicely, but we'll need to keep mending the more serious injuries the No-maj way until you can get your strength back up," Queenie heard the healer say as he finished changing Mr. Graves's bandages and left a replenishing potion for him to drink on his way out.

She watched the bedridden man give an exhausted sigh as he took the potion with shaking hands from her spot by the door. Now, in unobstructed view, Queenie saw the extent of the damage Mr. Graves had suffered that had Tina so scared for him. Even two weeks after his rescue, "gaunt" would be too generous a description of the emaciated man before her. Despite his obviously poor health, his mental walls were as impenetrable as ever to her Legilimency.

"Ms. Goldstein," his rough voice shook her from her reverie, "what brings you here?"

"Afternoon, Mr. Graves!" Queenie chirped, affecting a cheerfulness she didn't quite feel. "Well, Tina's been so worried about you since you was rescued, and I wanted to try and help any way I could. I brought you some home-made vegetable soup!"

Graves sighed wearily before responding, "I really do appreciate your concern, but I'm sure Goldstein told you how badly her last attempt at feeding me went."

"Yes, but this time it's a vegetable-based broth. It should be easier on your stomach," she said, undeterred.

"Ms. Goldstein, I really have no desire to further embarrass myself in front of my subordinates," he protested with downcast eyes.

"Oh, but I'm not your subordinate, honey! You don't need to worry about keeping up appearances with me. Now, come on and have a taste. It would just break Tina's heart if she hears you didn't even try," Queenie insisted as she sat down in the visitor's chair at his bedside. She caught his eyes from the new angle and gave him her most potent doe-eyed look.

Graves's protests crumbled at the sight of her pleading expression and he nodded silently in acquiescence. The soup really did smell wonderful after all.

"Oh, that's great, honey!" Queenie exclaimed, as she unwrapped the soup and set it on his tray table with a flick of her wand. She even tucked a napkin into the collar of his nightshirt before holding up a spoonful of the soup to his chapped lips. His pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment at her ministrations, but he bore it silently, secretly enjoying her mothering.

Graves managed to get through half the bowl before a familiar, but bearable wave of nausea forced him to stop. He thanked her sincerely for the truly delicious soup and laid back in bed, enjoying the feeling of a comfortably full stomach for a change. Queenie stayed to chat and update him on all the office gossip, and soon a whole hour had passed. They were both optimistic that his meal would actually stay down this time, until the healer returned with several more doses of potions he needed to take. Percival knew he needed these potions to recover faster, so he forced himself to drink the vile-tasting liquids. However, by the third dose, his shrunken stomach was painfully full, and he grabbed for the basin that was now a constant companion on his bedside table just in time to lose his lunch.

"Oh sweetie...Shh, it's ok," Queenie soothed, rubbing his back through the dry heaving. The feeling of the boniness of his shoulder blades and spine through his shirt was not at all reassuring.

"Q-Queenie," he panted, throat burning after his ordeal, "I'm sorry I wasted your cooking. You really are quite talented." He slumped back against his pillows, clearly exhausted and too weak to sit up any longer. He was in too much pain to resist Queenie's comforting touch.

"No, no, Mr. Graves, don't you worry none about that," she assured him while gently wiping his mouth with her handkerchief, "Tina and I do this because we care about you, sweetie. We just want to help you get better. Just rest for now, honey. We'll figure something out."

He fell asleep with the warmth of Queenie's hand wrapped around his own.

 

**Jacob**

In the week following Queenie's visit, the healers worked to adjust Graves's schedule of potions to ensure he had enough time to digest the light broths he was now able to stomach. This development prevented him from losing any more weight, but he was still unable to eat the more nutritious, solid food he needed to start gaining back some body mass. Queenie confided all this to Jacob on her weekly visit to his brand-new bakery.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, Jacob," she said mournfully, "He's still not gaining weight, and he must be getting sick of only having broth to eat."

Jacob had never met the real Percival Graves, but could surmise that a man who inspired such concern in the Goldstein sisters must be a good guy. With that in mind, he suggested he bake some bread to bring for Mr. Graves next time Queenie visited.

"Oh Jacob, honey, would you really?" Queenie squealed in delight, "I'm sure you'll come up with something irresistible for him!"

Jacob flushed at his sweetheart's praise and resolved to bake the perfect loaf for Tina and Queenie's ailing friend. 

Queenie managed to charm their way into MACUSA's hospital ward, even with Jacob looking and feeling horribly out of place. She cheerily opened the door to Mr. Graves's room, seemingly no longer fazed by the occupant's haggard appearance.

"Morning, Mr. Graves! How're you feeling? I've brought a special someone with me to visit today," she exclaimed, ushering Jacob further into the room.

Jacob finally caught sight of the real Percival Graves as he looked up from the documents he had spread across his bed. The resemblance to the impostor Jacob had first met was not nearly as striking as he had feared, due to this Percival Graves's unhealthy thinness and the warm kindness in his eyes as he greeted Queenie.

"Queenie, this wouldn't happen to be the No-Maj, Jacob Kowalski, who was presumably obliviated in the aftermath, would it?" Graves asked in a gently disapproving tone. He had apparently been getting caught up on case files, against his healers' recommendations.

"Um ,well, yes, but Jacob here just couldn't help remembering everything as soon as he saw me, Mr. Graves! Honest, he didn't do nothing wrong!" Queenie explained pleadingly, her eyes imploring him silently.

"I see. Well, as it happens, I'm not currently in a position to do anything about Mr. Kowalski either way, and who's to say if I'll even remember having met him in my weakened state?" Graves said mischievously. "And how many times have I asked you to call me Percival, please?"

"Oh, Mr. Gr-er, I mean Percival! Thank you so much!" Queenie gushed as she wrapped her arms around his insubstantial shoulders. "Oh, and Jacob brought you something to try! Here, honey, show Percival what you made!"

"Right, well, it's nothing fancy. Just a plain, white loaf, something easy to eat and digest," Jacob said bashfully and unwrapped the bread, still warm from the oven. The fragrance of freshly-baked bread overtook the sterile smell of the hospital room, and succeeded in piquing Graves's appetite. However, his pride prevented him from accepting such charity.

"Mr. Kowalski, I apologize for any undue trouble you've gone to. I hope the Goldsteins haven't been exaggerating about my condition," Percival said stiffly, "It does look delicious and I do appreciate the gesture, but I really can't accept a gift from a perfect stranger. Please, go home and share it with Tina and Queenie."

"Percival! Jacob made this especially for you! Because he's worried about you too!" Queenie insisted, anger flaring slightly in her usually sweet voice. "The least you could do is thank him and try it!"

Jacob put a comforting hand on her shoulder before addressing Graves, "I know it can be hard to accept help from others after being on your own for so long, especially from a stranger like me. But, Mr. Graves, with how much Tina and Queenie care about you, I'd say you're a man worth much more than the lot you've been given. If I can do something to help a good man in a rough patch, it's no trouble at all." Jacob smiled amicably and rubbed the back of his neck, while Queenie gazed adoringly at her sweetheart.

Percival, uncomfortable with the display of kindness directed towards him, fidgeted with the document in his hands before neatly stacking all the files on his bedside table. He thanked them both in an uncharacteristically shy voice before agreeing to try a small piece of the bread. Queenie happily transfigured a pen into a bread knife for Jacob, who set to cutting a thin slice for Percival and two thicker pieces for Queenie and himself.

It took a significant amount of willpower for Percival to slow down his consumption of the soft, flavorful bread. He paced himself to eat bite by bite, chewing thoroughly, but even with his precautions, he found himself feeling ill soon after finishing his slice. He swallowed frequently to keep the nausea at bay, not wanting to worry Queenie even more or to insult his new acquaintance.

Soon after finishing her piece of bread, Queenie excused herself to go off to work, but insisted that Jacob stay with Percival to get to know each other a bit. She kissed them both on the cheek before exiting in a flourish of pink.

"You feeling alright there, Mr. Graves?" Jacob asked, having caught on to the other man's growing discomfort. "Sorry if me and Queenie forced you into eating more than you're ready for yet."

"No, it's fine," Percival gritted out, breathing as deeply as he dared. "I'm fine, really," he claimed, despite the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. He tried desperately to keep it at bay, knowing he needed the calories to stay in him, but it was obviously a losing battle.

Jacob quickly pushed the nearby emesis basin into Graves's shaking hands, and quietly said, "Hey, it's okay if you lose it. I promise I won't be offended, and I'll bring you something else to try again later." He placed a warm hand on the older man's bony back, and that slight pressure was enough to push Percival over the edge. Jacob held him steady through it, though his kind heart ached at seeing the poor man suffer further.

Once Percival had finished emptying his stomach, and taken a sip from the glass of water Jacob poured for him, he looked imploringly at the baker and rasped in a wrecked voice, "Please don't tell Queenie. She'd be so disappointed."

"Oh, no, it's not like that, bud. She and Tina, and me for that matter, just want you to get well soon. She would never be upset with you over something like this. But don't worry, I won't tell. Only on the condition that you keep letting us bring you food, of course," Jacob teased with a friendly smile.

Percival laughed for the first time that week before saying, "Deal."

 

**Seraphina**

Three weeks into Graves's recovery, he took a sudden turn for the worse when the largest wound, spanning his chest from his left shoulder to the right side of his ribs, became infected. With the help of more potions and more healing magic, the infection itself was nowhere near life-threatening. However, the resulting fever left him feeling constantly dizzy and nauseous. Despite all the progress Tina, Queenie, and Jacob had made in accustoming him to eating regularly again, it seemed he was back to square one, being unable to even stomach the light soup the healers plied him with.

Seraphina Picquery was a very busy woman, and had not had the time to visit Graves since taking his initial statement. She still found time to keep tabs on his recovery though, and upon hearing of his worsening condition, she immediately cleared her schedule for the afternoon to spend some long overdue quality time with her best and oldest friend.

When she laid eyes on Percival for the first time since his rescue, she was concerned and frustrated to find that he hardly looked any better. Her first thought was to track down the healer in charge of his care and demand he do his job properly, but as she looked closer at his sleeping form, she was able to see minute improvement. His complexion, under the flush of fever, was still eerily pale, but had at least lost its previous gray pallor. And though he was still worryingly thin, his frame no longer looked so skeletal, nor was he covered in as many bandages.

She gently brushed his overgrown hair back from his clammy face, receiving a tired groan and fluttering lashes from him in response.

"Mm, Sera..?" he mumbled, not quite alert yet.

"Yes, it's me, Perce," she said fondly, "How did you know?"

"Smelled your perfume. Oh, what are you doing here though, Sera? Did something happen?" he asked with growing awareness, despite the feverish glaze in his eyes.

"Relax, Percival, everything's fine," Seraphina sighed. Leave it to her right-hand man to continue caring about the very institution that had failed him so miserably. "I'm just here to visit you, silly."

The tension in Percival's body still remained, and he quietly told her, "You must be much too busy to hang around an invalid like me, though. You already barely had time to sleep before all this, so you should really spend any spare time you have resting, Sera."

Seraphina snorted in a very undignified manner and chided him for his self-deprecation. "Percival Graves, don't you dare lecture me about taking breaks when you're the one who refuses to take even Christmas Day off work. And anyway, I was so worried about you, I couldn't focus on anything else anyway."

He grimaced as if in pain, and she was about to call a healer, when he confided, "I'm so tired of people worrying about me. Tina, Queenie, and everyone else in my department keep bringing me food every damn day and guilt me into eating! Then I can't keep it down, and that makes them worry all over again. And now you can't even do your work properly and that's my fault too! Why can't it all just go back to normal and let me move on?" He was breathing hard after his rant, seeming exhausted just from speaking above a whisper.

"Finished?" Seraphina quirked an eyebrow at him.

He nodded silently and swallowed hard in an attempt to soothe his aching throat. She conjured a glass of water with an easy flick of her wand and helped him sit up to drink.

"Now Percival, you must understand that the Goldsteins and your Aurors look up to you as a sort of symbol of strength. So to see you laid low like this makes them nervous, not just for themselves, but understandably for you too. We all care about you, Perce, whether you like it or not, and I'm afraid it will take some time before we can forgive ourselves for not noticing what happened. You've told us all that you would never blame us for this, but we still feel the need to pay penance for our, let's call it 'inattention to detail.' And if that takes the form of us worrying about you, fussing over you, and trying our damnedest to get you back on your feet again, then it's up to you whether you want to accept our actions as the apology that they represent. Can you just try to understand it from our perspective, Percy?"

He grumbled a bit at the use of his childhood nickname before agreeing to be more patient with them all.

"Good," Seraphina nodded, "Now while we're on the subject, I heard you've been having trouble eating again."

Percival groaned, "Sera, please, just leave it alone. I feel sick enough already without you trying to force feed me another bowl of soup or something."

"Well, I'm fairly certain you haven't tried this idea yet," she said while conjuring a stick of hard candy in a pretty display of magic. "Here, my mother used to suck on hard candy when she was pregnant with my younger brother to ease the morning sickness. It might help with your nausea too, and you need the extra calories."

She held the cherry-red candy to his mouth and waited for him to take it. He hesitated before cheekily joking, "You'll have to take me on a date or two first before I start sucking anything of yours, Sera."

She rolled her eyes, but could not suppress a smile, relieved as she was that he still had his charming wit. "Come on Percival, please?"

And Percival couldn't stay stubborn in the face of that, because _the_ Madam President should never have to plead, especially not for him. He took the candy into his mouth slowly and gave it a hesitant lick. However, the second the sweetness hit his tongue, he pulled away and gagged fruitlessly into his hand. He gave a couple dry retches before his stomach seemed to realize it was already empty. Seraphina had quickly vanished the candy, sat herself at the edge of his bed, and wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders, without a care to wrinkling her fine taffeta gown. She rubbed his back until he calmed, then pulled his head down to rest under her chin.

"I'm sorry, Perce," she sighed before teasing gently, "I should've known sugary candy wouldn't be to your taste. Perhaps if it had been coffee-flavored."

He chuckled breathlessly, "Yes, perhaps," and let himself drift off, senses soothed by the fresh scent of her perfume.

 

**+1 Newt**

Once the infection abated, the fever, dizziness, and nausea eased away as well. With the now welcome support from the Goldstein sisters and Jacob, Percival soon regained his tolerance for soft and bland foods. Unfortunately, he still had yet to regain his appetite. He did his best to eat when food was given to him, but he hardly ever seemed to feel naturally hungry after being starved for so long. However, Percival was learning to be patient with others as well as with himself, so he resolved to give his body time to heal in due course without getting frustrated. The days passed in peaceful monotony until he realized two months had gone by since he was first rescued from the cellar Grindelwald held him prisoner in. With this hallmark came a change to his routine, in the form of Newt Scamander's return to New York.

 

Newt had not intended on returning to America so soon after the whole Grindelwald debacle, but the increasingly concerned and Mr. Graves-centric letters from Tina, along with Theseus constantly pestering him for updates about his old friend's health, had him quickly changing course in his travels. As soon as he set foot on the dock outside customs, he found himself wrapped up in a Goldstein sandwich hug.

"Ooh Newt! We've missed you so much, sweetie!" Queenie gushed while kissing his cheeks affectionately.

"It certainly has been pretty boring around here without you and your creatures," Tina commented more sedately than her sister, glancing at her watch briefly. "Sorry Newt, I'm supposed to go see Mr. Graves right now, but Queenie'll take you to our place in the meantime."

"He insists you call him Percival, remember Teenie?" Queenie prodded at her sister.

Tina blushed and looked away, muttering, "He's my boss, Queenie, it's not proper."

"Actually, I was hoping to visit Mr. Graves myself, if you don't mind me tagging along, Tina," Newt interjected quietly. "My brother has been pestering me to see how he's doing in his stead."

Tina and Queenie glanced at each other in mild surprise before Queenie asked, "Your brother and Percival know each other?"

"Oh, yes, they've been pen-pals since the war. Theseus has just been feeling too guilty at not noticing his replacement to ask Mr. Graves himself about his health."

"Mmhmm, looks like your brother ain't the only one curious to know more about Percival though," Queenie said slyly, obviously having seen Newt's memories of admiring his brother's handsome friend from afar. She smiled at Newt's reddening ears and suggested cheerfully, "Well why don't we all go for a visit then, huh Teenie?"

Tina agreed with a slightly suspicious look at her sister, then held out her hands to side-along disapparate them both.

Percival was propped up in bed, picking at his lunch of porridge when the three of them arrived at his room. He smiled tiredly at them as they entered, but his eyes lit up in surprise and excitement at seeing the redhead shuffle in behind the sisters.

"Newt! I didn't realize you were coming back to the States so soon. It's so good to see you again, and as myself this time," Percival joked good-naturedly.

Newt glanced up at the other man briefly upon hearing his name, and quickly cataloged the new scars littering his arms and chest, the paleness of his skin, and the lingering gauntness of his frame. The magizoologist's heart sank at seeing the current state of the once-strong-bodied man he had come to respect, and maybe crush on a bit too. Newt realized he had been staring for a touch longer than was socially acceptable, and shyly averted his eyes while replying, "Yes, it has been awhile. My brother and I are very glad that you're safe."

"Ah yes, how is Theseus? Been too busy to write me himself?" Percival inquired lightly, but not quite managing to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Well, he has been rather busy with the whole Grindelwald fiasco, but I suspect it's because he's still feeling guilty about, umm, all that you've been through," Newt explained.

Percival frowned a bit at that and made a mental note to write to Theseus and tell him off for being stupid at his earliest convenience. "Well, regardless of what brings you here, Newt, I'm always very glad to see you," he said with a softness in his eyes that neither Goldstein sister had seen before. "From what I've heard, you've grown into a very capable and accomplished man."

The redhead blushed visibly at the compliment, and tried very hard to keep his growing crush out of his thoughts, lest Queenie overhear. Her giggle from across the room told him he'd failed anyway. He stuttered into an attempt at conversation, "Oh, no, well, th-thank you, but I mean, not really. Oh, um, but enough about me. I really want to hear how you're doing, Mr. Graves? Tina sounded so distraught in her letters."

Percival sighed, "You can call me Percival if you want, Newt. And Tina has a tendency to exaggerate and be a worrywart when it comes to me, I'm afraid. I'm doing just fine, no cause for alarm at all."

"Oh really, sir? You're doing so 'fine' that the healers told me you don't eat unless one of us is here to make you? You haven't even touched your porridge, and I know lunch was served over half an hour ago!" Tina interjected pointedly.

"Tina, please, just leave it alone, would you?" Percival said with a long-suffering sigh that spoke of an argument rehashed too many times.

"No, I can't! It's been two months already, and you don't even seem to care that you're not getting better!" she exclaimed, near tears. Queenie put a hand on her shoulder, whether to comfort her or hold her back, Newt wasn't sure.

"Goldstein, enough!" Graves barked and glared at Tina until she backed down.

Newt subtly stepped between them and suggested Tina and Queenie head home without him. "I can find my own way back. And Mr. Graves and I have some catching up to do anyway."

Tina nodded, but cast one last defiant look at her boss on her way out. Queenie leaned in to pat Percival's hand and whisper, "Teenie doesn't mean it, honey. She's just-"

"Worried. I know, Queenie. And I really am trying to get better, it's just been difficult," Percival said in a small voice.

"It's okay sweetie, I know. You can both apologize next time we come visit. Besides, I think having Newt around for a bit will be good for us all," she said with a wink before following her sister out the door.

Newt, who had gone off somewhere without a word, returned soon after the sisters had left, holding a dessert dish and spoon.

"Are you hungry, Newt? You can go down to the cafeteria and have a real lunch if you want," Percival suggested, while looking curiously at the bowl in his hands.

Newt shook his head and pushed the now-congealed porridge to the side and set the glass dish down on the tray table. "It's for you."

"Chocolate pudding?" Percival quirked an eyebrow at the seemingly random offering. "Thank you, Newt, but I'm not especially hungry right now. I've just had lunch after all."

"But Tina was right, it doesn't look like you ate any of it. Even if you don't feel hungry, your body needs the food," Newt said, pushing the pudding closer to the other man.

"And you figured chocolate pudding would be a balanced meal for me?" Percival asked with an amused smile.

"Well, not balanced exactly, no. But it does have plenty of calories, and I thought it would be best to start with a food you actually like. That's how I usually convince my more stubborn creatures to eat anyway."

"So you're comparing me to one of your creatures now?" Graves teased, enjoying watching the blush spread across Newt's face as the redhead shook his head to deny it. "How did you know I like chocolate pudding anyway?"

"Oh, Theseus told me it was your favorite dessert from the mess hall back in the war. You do still like it, don't you?"

Now it was Percival's turn to feel warmth flood his pallid cheeks, flattered as he was that Newt remembered such a small detail about him. "Yes, I do quite like it, but I'm not entirely sure it would stay down right now," he admitted softly.

"Ohh, I see," Newt bit his lip and glanced up at the other man again, unsure of how to proceed. He saw Percival's hands trembling with weakness as he took a drink from his glass of water, and his concern gave him the sudden boldness to try something daring.

"Well, if you're not going to have any, I might as well eat it," Newt declared, while taking a spoonful of the rich pudding into his mouth. He licked the spoon clean and dragged his tongue along his lips in what he hoped was a sensual manner. He looked up at Percival from under his fringe of curls and purred, "Mmm, it's really quite good, Mr. Graves. Are you sure you don't want to try some?"

"Um, no, no thank you," Percival was honest-to-Merlin blushing now, the pinkness in his cheeks making him look healthier.

"Oh, okay, suit yourself," Newt said nonchalantly, while scooping another spoonful. This time, he moaned with his eyes closed while slowly sliding the spoon from his mouth. "It's so smooth and creamy on my tongue. Are you sure you don't want to have just a taste, Mr. Graves?"

At this point, Percival's mouth was in fact watering, but due to a different kind of hunger. Even his restraint had limits though, and he found himself nodding and huskily saying, "Just a taste."

Newt smiled sweetly and leaned in slowly, giving Percival plenty of time to back away if he wanted. When he was just inches from the older man, Newt whispered, "You might like it if you try it," before closing the distance and kissing Percival open-mouthed.

Though momentarily shocked at the turn of events, Percival was never one to pass up a good opportunity, and he quickly worked his tongue into Newt's chocolaty mouth. He sucked and tasted until the sweetness of the pudding dissipated and only the taste of Newt himself remained.

The redhead pulled back, some of his characteristic shyness returning. "How did it taste, Mr. Graves?"

"Delicious," he growled in response. His hunger had flared to life at the sensation of having just a taste and nothing more. "You've just had your tongue in my mouth, Newt, I think you could stand to call me Percival at this point."

"How about a deal then?" Newt said coquettishly. "You let me feed you some pudding, and I'll call you whatever you like."

"Yes. Yes, please." Newt re-positioned them so that Percival was propped against his pillows in a more relaxed position, and so that Newt could climb onto the bed with him. He prepared a small spoonful of the chocolate dessert and held it to Percival's mouth. "Open up, sweetheart."

A soft moan escaped the director's lips, as much from the taste as from the term of endearment. He savored the richness of the pudding before swallowing and eagerly opening his mouth for more. Newt chuckled before obliging and made good on his promise. "Aren't you glad you tried it, Percival?"

They continued on with Newt feeding him and whispering encouragement, with many breaks for more kissing and to give his stomach some time to adjust. Percival lost his appetite again a couple times, but Newt distracted him with kisses or let him suck some pudding off his fingers until it re-sparked his hunger. Before long, they had made it through the entire bowl of pudding without even a hint of the usual nausea. Percival's pleasantly full stomach and the warmth of having another person so close quickly lulled him into a doze.

Newt carefully wiped the older man's mouth clean of any remaining sugary stickiness, and dropped a kiss on his forehead. He briefly gazed at Percival's relaxed face, feeling pleased with himself that his plan had worked, before rising from the bed to leave the man to rest. A thin hand grasped his shirt in a loose hold as a quiet voice said, "Thank you."

Newt gently disentangled the other's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Of course, Percival. Anything for you, pudding," he teased with a giggle.

Percival groaned at the nickname and resigned himself to a romance filled with bad puns.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Pudding was promoted by late 19th century American food companies as health food, and was therefore marketed for its nutritional value to invalids and children.


End file.
